Don't Stand so Close Challenge
by Flickerphile
Summary: What goes on in the head of an attracted student? How does an interested teacher react?
1. Chapter 1

Hermione sighed as he passed her lab table. Her cauldron simmering and glowing with the desired clear blue. The smoke rising in thin tendrils clockwise before dissipating into the classroom. How much did she want to throw a handful of lacewings into the simmering mix to make the pot boil and spill a black vile slug? Too much.

Her hand visibly shook to control her desire. Desire to call attention to herself. To have him hovering over her thin frame. To have his lips desperately close to her ear. His hands over hers as he let a dozen verbal threats tumble from his mouth. To have all his attention on her. A small and cruel smile graced her lips.

Her tongue snaked out before she could think to retrieve it. Her lips wet and ready for what she only wished was hers. She exhaled pondering what Professor's Snapes' lips would feel like against her own young flesh. Rough with age and experience? Or soft with careful preservation and want? Either would surely excite every nerve ending she wished he would lavish with his expert talents.

Hermione ignored the desperate whispers from her male friends. They only wanted her cerebral knowledge. They often looked past her when considering female companionship. Harry with his crush of the week and Ron sorting through the all-to-willing leftovers. Hermione found herself sitting on the sidelines with some sod who could not hold his end of a decent conversation. When would fate grace her with her own match?

Snape's cassock billowed as he stalked down the aisle. Hermione bit her tongue to keep from garbing his elbow and pulling his body close to hers. How desperately did she want to tease his lips with hers? Too much.

Snape's manly build crouched and ready for attack over another inattentive student. "How much crushed dragon scales does the potion call for?" he bellowed. The berated child cowered under scrutiny. "Two scales, sir?"

_Wrong_. Hermione thought. 'Four pinches' she whispered in unison as his voice reverberated against the cold stone walls. Snape stalked from the terrified student. "Ten points from Hufflepuff," he shouted in afterthought.

Hermione sucked in the fleshy bit of her cheek between her teeth to keep from smiling. His demeanor, with no explanation or reason, make her wet. Cutting the imprint of her molars into her cheek flesh kept her from smiling at his antics. She saw through him. And wanted only more.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione's footsteps echoed off the stone walls. While being head girl was more than a secret desire she held during in first years at Hogwarts, some of the accompanying duties were not all pleasant. Evening patrols through the cold hallways were on the bottom of Hermione's expected duties. They took precious time away from studying and homework.

Hermione inwardly scolded herself. Yes, patrols were not welcome, but they were necessary. While she was not buried in dusty texts, she was walking outside her worn path between her private dorm and the library. A necessary evil, but necessary nonetheless.

Walking down a shifting staircase, Hermione found herself on the same path as a particularly snarky Potions Master. Not enough time now to deviate her path, she would have to pass him on the stairs. How odd was it that she spent hours in Potions lessons secretly devising ways to gain his attention while she almost wanted to run from passing him in the castle? Hermione shook herself and steeled herself to pass the dark and possessing man without a falter in her step.

She was so focused on passing the intimidating professor, she did not notice a worn school broom leaning against the stone banister. Snape paused at the forgotten equipment and mumbled to himself. He reached to remove the broom from obstructing the stairway: violation of rule 243 of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, only to pull his hand quickly to his chest as if offended by the forgotten broom.

Hermione tried her best to keep her pace as she advanced on his stilled frame. Only two footsteps away did she understand his predicament. The ends of her lips quirked while assessing the splinter in his finger. She sucked in her lower lip and held it between her teeth to keep from smiling. Too quick, she remembered a children's tale of a lion with a splinter in his paw. How would the mean Potions Master liked to be compared to a whimpering lion and not a wise snake? Not much.

Snape stared at his bruised finger and seemed to all but forget Hermione advancing on him. In the two steps it took her to face her professor, Hermione summoned all the courage that failed her in the countless potions lessons she hated.

Before she was ready, she grabbed his injured digit. The straining moonlight from a far window highlighted the sore redness on his fingertip. Before he could utter a callous word, Hermione opened her mouth and sucked on the bruised finger. The tension was too much. She closed her eyes to avoid his piercing gaze, and unwittingly gave him a view every man enjoys: a beautiful woman sucking on a man's appendage.

Snape held his breath and let his jaw relax as Hermione's tongue worked wonders on his finger. Her warm mouth enveloped his tip while she let her saliva rush over his skin. Not long after, her tongue flicked his sensitive skin and her small teeth worked at his flesh with expert ease.

Hermione found her senses and felt alive for the first time in her life. While she found it hard to maintain eye contact with a man she knew she could control with the flick of her tongue, she loved the sense of control she knew she held over the untouchable Severus Snape. Yes, she worked out the splinter within a few seconds, yet she lingered on the taste of his fingers on her lips.

How would those fingers taste after a more intimate introduction to her body? If his finger felt that right between her lips, what would other body parts feel like? Hermione could not catch herself before wondering if she would have to relax her gag reflex and what his corpus cavernosum would feel like between her lips.

Too much cerebral assessment. She opened her eyes to see a very intense Potions master barely standing in front of her. His eyes glazed over with what she could only hope was want. Hermione took a few prideful seconds gliding her tongue over his tender flesh. She released his finger from her mouth with the smallest 'pop' and smirked at his astonished face.

She worked the offending splinter from her lips and offered the small piece of wood as an offering to a nearby windowsill. "I hope that is not the end of your talented mouth," he broke the silence, "Miss Granger."

His words shook her to her core. Hermione faced her coveted object of desire with a half smile and eyebrow quirk she showed no one else walking the earth. "Don't you hope?" She answered before continuing her walk down the staircase. She forced herself not to look back. Hermione would never know where that bit of courage sprang from, but she would hold this moment close to her heart for as long as it beat in her chest.


	3. Chapter 3

"Pop quiz. Clear your tables except for quills and parchment." Hermione heard her classmates groan and mutter to themselves. She searched Snape's face and found him ignoring her glare. Her eyes flashed with an idea. Hermione grabbed her supplies and took a seat at the back of the class. She refused to meet Ron or Harry's questioning faces and smiled to herself.

"Before the end of class, you will write a one foot essay on an elixir to induce euphoria. You may want to include the proper color, the proper cauldron to use, side effects, and what ingredient may elevate side effects."

Hermione quickly set to work on the assignment. She explained the potion and answered Snape's suggested questions. While her dumbfounded classmates made angry scratches with their quills, Hermione finished her essay in record time. She looked up to find the Potions Master staring at her.

Her cheeks flushed at the attention he made no attempt to hide. She forced her eyes back to her desk and reviewed her work for errors. She slowly counted to ten before chancing another look at Snape. He was most definitely staring at her. His eyes traveled down her legs and back up to meet her eyes. Hermione was excited and scared that she spurred his interest.

She focused on her neat hand writing on the parchment while she steeled herself to execute her plan. Hermione lowered her hands under the desk and raised the hem of her skirt to mid thigh. It took all her willpower to appear nonchalant. She steadied her shaking fingers on her bare skin and slowly opened her knees in a very unladylike manner.

When she found the courage to look at his desk, she was pleased with his response. Snape's jaw relaxed as he fixed his eyes on the view she provided. It was a few satisfied moments before he blinked away and scanned the oblivious students to recover his composure. Only after he confirmed no unwanted students observed his slip, he met Hermione's eyes. She could not help a sly smile cross her lips.

Snape pushed back in his chair and leaned back. She watched his shoulders relax. His easy posture encouraged her. Hermione brought the hem of her skirt to her hips and inched her legs further apart. The cold dungeon air hit her hot center. She relished her decision that morning to go without knickers.

She debated which element thrilled her more. Was it the threat any of her classmates could discover her private show? The fact that her desired professor exposed a voyeuristic streak? Hermione could not find the answer, but knew she was wet before her fingertips grazed her most intimate areas.

Her ripe nipples perked against her shirt as her finger played over her sensitive nub. Snape's eyes zeroed in between her legs. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as she stroked herself at a familiar pace. Hermione's free hand snaked up her chest and slowly tweaked a nipple through the fabric. Snape sank in his chair to get a better view.

Soon, it was hard to keep her breathing normal. Hermione tapped her wand for a quick silencing spell. No need to alert her neighbors. She was performing a show for an audience of one. Snape's chest moved in hitches and starts. It appeared he was also having trouble to maintain a quiet demeanor. An almost cruel smirk covered her lips to watch his reaction.

Hermione brought her left hand back to her breasts. She teased the forgotten nipple. A more intense wave of pleasure radiated from her core. With closed eyes, she rode the first indicator of her impending orgasm. When she opened her eyes, she saw a hand disappeared under Snape's desk as well.

_Was his hand buried in a nest of pubic hair or was it just rubbing the length of his covered shaft? _Hermione immediately felt another wave at the thought. She pictured the outline of his stiff member. _What would it look like strained against his pants?_ She was getting closer to her peak. _Strained against his underwear? _Her left hand moved from her nipples to the dip at her pelvic bone. She stroked the sensitive area with revered attention.

The muscles in her right hand started to burn at the awkward angle. _What type of underwear was he sporting today? _Another wave of pleasure. _Loose fitting boxers that easily tented? _She denied her aching hand. _Snug boxer briefs that left little to the imagination? _Snape's arm moved more insistently. _God was it possible? _Another wave. _Did he do the unthinkable and go without just as she did? _

Hermione imagined the shape, the color, and the length of his proud cock. The last word echoed in her mind. Her fingers worked furiously toward her goal. _How would the word sound from his lips? _This next wave more intense. She guessed she was breathless seconds away. She imagined his body pressed against hers and whispering into his ear. _I want your cock inside me._ It was her undoing.

With the smallest whimper Hermione rode her orgasm as it overtook her body. She squeezed her eyes shut in breathless heartbeats. Her leg cramped at a near painful angle. She didn't care. Seconds ticked by. Her toes seized tight. It didn't matter.

The most intense wave of pleasure rocked through her body. Everything around her faded away. The other students in the classroom were not important. Just the man watching her from across the room. She didn't care if Malfoy turned in his chair to see her hand under her skirt. Dumbldore could walk in the door and could see her mid-climax and Hermione would not mind. The pleasure started to ebb_. Ok, Dumbldore was a bit much._

She started to breath in the shallowest whisper. Her toes flexed. Hermione pulled more air into her lungs. The cramp in her leg eased. She opened her eyes to see Snape's straining for composure. The waves of pleasure subsided to a gentle calm over her body.

Hermione replaced her skirt and gathered her supplies. She took her time walking to Snape's desk. She enjoyed the pained expression on his face. She placed her completed essay on his desk, her fingers dangerously close to the edge where his hand was still hidden from view.

In a flash, Snape grabbed her right hand. Hermione gasped at the action. He brought her fingers to his mouth and sucked on her wet digits. She could not believe his tongue moved over her fingers. He closed his eyes and savored her taste. Just as fast, he removed his mouth and scanned the classroom. Satisfied no one noticed, he met her gaze. "Paper cut," he said. "You should be more careful."

"Thank you for your...," Hermione's eyed his hidden hand, "concern Professor."

Snape's head tilted in recognition. "Anytime, Miss Granger."


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione did not hear her footsteps echoes off the stone walls. She was on autopilot. It was almost refreshing to complete some sort of mindless task while allowing one's mind to wonder over the more intricate details of life. If she was not making her last rounds for evening call as head girl, Hermione knew she would look up and write the definitions to ancient runes she probably already committed to memory. That or cleaning. Finding the particular place for all her belongings was near therapeutic when she was trying to sort out more complex problems in her mind.

This how how she found herself wandering the halls of Hogwarts alone, and nearly lost. Her feet walked without her knowing consent, and led her to an unfamiliar section of the castle. She was about to change her direction, and trace her loose steps back to her dormitory when she heard the unmistakable heavy footsteps of another person.

Yes, she was head girl. Yes, she was nearly lost in the place she called home since she was eleven years old. No, she would not admit defeat in the face of some unknown observer. And so she continued down the dimly lit hallway, unfaltering in her footsteps for fear it would give away the uncertainty in her mind.

Before she could turn her head, the owner of the accompanying footsteps met her stride down the empty hallway. It was sheer stubbornness the kept Hermione from looking at the face owning her followed footsteps. But she found a certain calm while her heel struck the worn stone with her unknown stranger.

Only abreast of her mystery companion, Hermione started to wonder about her safely. Surely, Dumbldore and his wise predecessors would set various wards about the castle to unsure the safety of underage wizards or witches, as the case may be. Only when the distinctive scent of her companion soothed her nerves. A familiar and somehow exotic scent of masculinity hit her nose and Hermione knew the man walking at her side.

She quirked her view to verify his identity. He ignored her upturned head as she knew he would. He walked at her side, matching step for step and refused to meet her gaze. Only one man could drive her attention with such passion and yet refuse to acknowledge it in the same beat.

"Professor?," she offered in a near sheepish question.

Severus Snape would not accept the offer. He ignored her question and her existence next to him in the same action. Hermione assumed correctly he heard her greeting and did not offer a second for him to refuse. While her mind reeled how to recover, she noticed Snape closed the distance between their shoulders.

It seems as if he was trying to walk more closely to the wall while ignoring Hermione's presence completely. Hermione bit her lip to keep herself from addressing the professor formally. His intrusion on her personal space was not unwelcome, but Hermione felt responsible to keep a respectable distance all the same.

If you asked her to explain the episode step by step, you would be disappointed at her narration. A turn of his characteristic robes, a pull in an almost romantic waltz, and suddenly he had her pressed to the stone wall of a forgotten alcove. Before she could recognize the move, Hermione was pinned against stone castle walls and the man that invaded her dreams. While a small part of her was outraged at his audacity, she did like his swagger. Yes, she was pinned between a rock and a hard place, and she loved it.

Hermione racked her slow-acting brain to create a clever quip. While she tried to think of a clever slice so startle him, Snape took control. He cupped her soft face in his callused hands. Before she could find the words he whispered, "legitimus." and Severus Snape was in her head.

He perused her memories and mind like the welcome libraries of her past. He strolled down various labels and sections in their neat and orderly filing system. Leave it to Hermione to carefully catalog her own mind. Never has Severus walked though such a well-kept catalog and memories to manipulate. It was easy picking.

Chronological seems the best fit and he easily found an aisle dedicated only to him. Imagine his joy when the first memory he uncovered was of Hermione in her third year. After his unmistakable remark naming her an 'insufferable know-it-all'. Hermione felt the pull as his presence as a man. While he shielded her and her friends from the monstrous power of a turned werewolf, Snape put himself first as a sacrifice as need be to protect the students under his charge.

Facing a childhood enemy and closely guarded fear was not easy. It was the unselfish and heroic act that first won Hermione's attention. While his actions were ill-informed in light of certain circumstances, his bravery was none the less noted. Next, he saw Hermione on Victor Crum's arm at the Yule ball. While the strong rugged world-renown qudditch player won her attention on the dace floor, another man standing in the shadows won her heart.

He flashed to another guarded memory in Hermione's mind. He could see some girls in her year sitting by the fire and laughing. Not long after Patilda turned to Hermione and asked "Truth or Dare". Hermione giggled, a small but treasured sound she shared with a select few. "Truth of course" she answered. "Which teacher would you like to bed?" The circle of young girls erupted in laughter as Hermione covered her flaming cheeks. He could see her mind wander to a familiar dream where Snape covered her naked body with his own on a soft bed.

Before he could catch his breath, he found another memory he could not ignore. In it, Hermione lay in her bed enjoying the most inmate parts of herself. Snape recognized the room. A room she occupied with in 12 Grimmald Place. He only spent one night at the hide-out but remembered hearing muffled moans from next door. It was not until now he cared to think who was delighting themselves with their own body. He watched Hermione push a sheet back to expose a bare nipple. A free hand twisted her erect nipple while her right hand was deliciously hidden from view. He could see Hermione was in the midst of self pleasure before she reached her climax and whispered three syllables into the night. "Severus," she managed before pulling the sheet tight to her body and falling asleep.

Snape figured he saw enough. He pulled from Hermione's mind and met her questioning gaze. "Sorry for the intrusion." In all the times he said the exact phase, he only meant it once. "I had to make sure of your intention," He assured.

Hermione leaned against the familiar cold stone at her back. Never in her years as a witch could one properly prepare her for the correct use of the ligitimus charm. While she never gave herself fully to one individual, she imagined the intrusion much like losing one's virginity.

What else is more sacred than the walls of your own mind? Where else can one roam free without the judgment of others? Free to explore your own fesores without restraint? It does no harm to explore feared territory if you are your only guide. And so she looked into the dark eyes of a man that knew her. Hear, mind, and soul. She wanted him to know her body as well. But knowing her mind was enough for tonight.

Snape dropped a key to her palm. "Now that I know you seek me of your own accord, I will allow you the hunt." He let his words soak in before continuing. "The next weekend is a visit to Hogsmead. This key opens a door in the Three Broomsticks. Please do not make me a disappointed man."

While Hermione struggled to make sense of his words, Snape disappeared. She wrapped her neck around an uncomfortable corner to find an empty hallway in both directions. Two days until the weekend and Hermione found she had more to worry about than her ancient ruins homework.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione held the doorknob in her hand. Stepping her way through the streets of Hogmead's was not hard. Passing the worn drunks falling sleep on their bar stools was not hard. Avoiding eye contact with the barman and waitresses was not hard.

Every step forward was easy to take when you confirmed you could change your agenda any second. No. I will not meet my desired man and allow him to show me the depths of womanhood. I will instead walk toward a popular joke shop and make easy conversation with people my own age.

But was that what she she really wanted? To make idle conversation with those who could not spark her intensity for knowledge? Not comprehend the immense difference between knowledge and memorized facts? Someone who did not respected the same goal she did?

Standing in front of a worn door was hard. With two feet firmly planted, it was the first time she seriously asked herself if she wanted this. Did she? A relationship with someone her own age was easy. She would not have to look far to find an acceptable companion. But was an acceptable companion what she wanted? Or did she deserve more?

Someone who could respect her view and challenge her opinion? Challenge her in ways no man within a ten year radius could? Could she help it if the boys in her year could not hold their end of a conversation? No. But did she deserve someone capable of satisfying her mind, body, and soul? Yes.

She knew she would not find someone with these qualifications in the student body. And she looked over the student body with a keen eye. All came up short.

Hermione held her breath and opened the door with a key Severus Snape passed to her in the halls of Hogwarts. Repercussions be damned. She deserved something outside the norms and would not settle for anything less.


	6. Chapter 6: The feel of his skin

Perhaps she offered some greeting. She was almost sure he did. If she tired, she could almost picture him sitting next to a window with a glass in his hand. Was it her imagination? Was it a part of a dream she created about him? Or was it the last thing she saw before he sprang into action?

In the span of a heartbeat he was on her. The feeling of his soft. Soft? Yes. Soft lips on hers and everything else melted away. Drunken songs from downstairs dropped in volume. The cough and stirs of neighbors almost unnoticeable.

The only thing her brain registered was the feel of his lips on hers. His on hers? Could only mean his body was....Yes it was firmly pressed against her beating chest.

It was not his soft lips. It was not his refusal to ask entrance to her mouth. It was the way he savored her touch. As if he was prisoner granted freedom for a few moments. Knowing the iron bars would clank down on him any minute and expected his one desire snatched away in an instant.

It was too much. His reserved pleasure sparked a hungry desire she did not want to control.

The more her lips touched his, the more she wanted. Her tongue snaked into his mouth before she made the decision. As her tongue slid over his trembling muscle, she wanted to feel her hand in his hair. As her fingers snaked through his silken locks. She only wanted to touch his chest. As her fingers brushed his buttons, she only wanted to feel his naked skin. Every desired provided a possible failsafe. I will stop when...

When my lips melt with his? When my fingers are locked behind his ears? When I can feel his shoulders? When I know the feel of his chest hair?

Every compromise offered with heartfelt vow. Every request met with untamed desire. No.

Hermione knew the feel of the man standing in front of her. His chest bare and ready to pull her to him again. She knew how his taunt muscles contracted under her fingertips. She memorized the scars across his skin. After a quarter of an hour she knew all these thing and she only wanted more.


	7. Chapter 7

Hermione's head was swimming. While her experience was limited, no one had the power to cause the goosebumps on her skin like Snape did. In one instant, time seemed to slow down. She could appreciate every white scare on his skin. The next, she could not keep her thoughts straight in a flash of flesh and furry. His bold hands sparked a near unquenchable thirst. She did not want to control her actions, only fall victim to her want.

Forbidden. This one word cried out in the midst of the pleasure in her fogged brain. She chanted it with every breath in a failed attempt to regain control. And every breath only excited her more. All hope of control was gone. She did not care to calculate the difference in their ages. The ethical breach in teacher/student relations. While a small part of her tried to regain control by assessing the situation, her mind was no match for her starved body. Snape was more than willing to feed her starved body with his slow caresses, small kisses, and appreciative gazes.

In the span of a heartbeat, Snape hoisted her hips above his waist. Hermione instinctively wrapped her legs around his body. Her reaction caused a smile on his lips. Snape walked them both to the bed and placed her gently on the mattress. Hovering over her body, he took his time to watch the concerned look cross her face.

"Rest assured," he breathed. "Just because you cross the threshold of this room, does not mean I require you to follow to completion." He brought his lips to grace her chin in the softest motion. "You do not even need to say a word." His wet lips left a small trail on her neck. "A simple moan or pause." He kissed her collar bone. "And I promise I will stop." His lips found a soft notch below her earlobe. Hermione sighed. While his kiss was soft, the expert placement was almost too much. Snape noted her sensitivity and lingered a moment or two longer than necessary. "If only you want me to."

She did not want to hold back any longer. She grabbed the back of his neck and pulled his body closer. Snape registered her action and chuckled deep in his throat. The sound scared her a bit. It was close to what she envisioned the dark lord made when creating his most devious plans. This one thought brought her attention to the danger of her position. It was dangerous. But it felt right.

She met his erratic hips with a wanting thrust and took as much pleasure from the meshed bodies would allow. Her hand would never compare. Her fingers would never suffice. She could never match the man above her.

"Hermone," he whispered to her ear. His voice, with its soothing quality radiated to her core. She rolled her hips is the most exotic way before her mind could stop her muscles. He registered the movement. Snape stilled his hips. Refusing to meet her beckoning buck. He looked into her face with the most innocent gaze he could muster. "Do you like that?" She hated his unanswered question before he could register her glare. He was toying with her.

She pulled back her pelvis on the next impending wave only to make him suffer. "Only if you did." She managed with a straight face. It was her most rewarding movement. She loved the look of his frustrated brows as his hips moved to enjoy his desired prize. Perhaps a shallow thrust was enough to break him. It was.

Was she ashamed? Almost. His hips snapped in time with hers. She could feel a delicious ripple up her spine as he rolled his hips to her pleasure. Ashamed only in that she could not pinpoint the events leading to this exquisite joy. But with quirked lips, she refused to give in to such heartbreak. He dove in and paid special attention to her nipple. When he snapped his hips, he gave another devilish swirl. She could not stop a pleasured mummer escape her lips. It was too much. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and waited for the next swirl.

He caught on in less than a heartbeat and slowed his erratic pace. Instead, he thrust and gave a more exaggerated swirl of his hips. Hermione could not stop her breath. She involuntarily grabbed his shoulders and screamed out loud. "YES." She was sure the even the sauced on their bar stools heard her womanly cry. And she didn't care. As long as the man above her continued his movement. She would face drunken stares sated gaze when she left the room as long as he kept doing _that_.

Hermione could not force her eyes open. That one fact filled her with remorse. This man on top of her brought her so much pleasure, she was sorry she could not communicate the joy in her heart with a look in her eyes. Muffled groans would have to suffice. While this caused some disappointment settling in her heart, immense pleasure radiated from her core.

'Ahh, Ohh" was all she could maneuver from her brain to her lips. Fear and doubt were too powerful for her to overcome. She wanted to share this pleasure with her lover but was afraid the acknowledgment would trigger failure. They did not talk about the implications. What did this mean? Was he looking for a quick thrill and planned on resuming their less than friendly relationship? Could she honestly give him a physical relationship with no emotional connection? These thoughts and many like it cluttered her mind.

In an instant, Snape noted the change in her demeanor and tried to changed her sense of the world. He continued to snap and ground his pelvis in the same way that brought cries of pleasure from her lips. He ignored her shut eyes and grasped her face to meet his. He disregarded his own impending pleasure to secure hers.

In a second her lids flashed open. Her dilated eyes met his. This was one moment was quick to fade and he needed to strike his claim. He was experienced in ways she was not. He knew the self-doubt that women allowed to tear at their interior.

"For you," was all he could utter. Hindsight is a bitter pleasure. In all the words and phrases in the English and many other languages, surely he could have picked another encouraging sentence. But his body showed signs he could not last much longer. His own end so close, he wanted to give some offering as heartfelt as his own impending pleasure. Those words were the worst and the best he could offer in such a weak moment.

His eyes flashed with the most patient looks. That moment exposed more of Snape than she needed. In less than a breath, she bucked her hips, straightened her leg, pushed her weight, and won the upper hand. Hermione did all this and changed position. She was on top of this untouchable man. She closed her eyes from his penetrating gaze and savored the feeling. Hermione could control the momentum. Only she could gauge the depth and intensity of their progress. The power alone was almost enough to put her over the edge.

Two quick pleasurable rolls from her core told her she was close. Hermione planted a firm hand on Severus' toned shoulder and instructed him without words to let her take control. He stopped his quick and soft thrust to let her enjoy the feel in all its entirety. Hermione plunged her hips and rolled her pelvis in an unfamiliar but thrilling movement. She was afraid to lock eyes with her lover. The feeling was far too intense. She was so close, she was afraid she would lose her momentum in less than a flash.

Her tongue snaked out over her lips before she could retrieve it and she heard Severus groan under her. His vocal encouragement was too much. She felt the power override her and she leaned back. "So tight," she heard him whisper between heavy breaths. She forced her body follow a delicious wave starting from her head, moving through her shoulders and torso, and ending with an evil snap at her hips. She moaned in response before she could think to stop herself. When her mind registered he was appreciating her body, another wave rocked her body. She visibly shuddered. "So wet." He continued. Her hand draped carelessly behind her head and let her body roll over his. The sensuous movements were near too much. He chucked with his dangerous voice. "Do you like that?" Hermione could not find the words to answer him. A small moan that only comes from a woman's throat rang out in the small room.

It was the control he gave her. She could not refuse. Her breasts beat free until his grasped one in his calloused hand and Hermione knew she had to ride it out. Without warning, another delicious wave of pleasure rocked her body. She listened to man under her moan. The power was beyond measure. Hermione loved the feeling of her slick walls rolling out another wave of wetness and she rode her lover harder. Snape caught his breath in his chest. His fingers gripped her hips and left purple marks on her flesh. His chest shook as he exhaled. "Please." He whispered.

Hermione rode out her impending orgasm and the man below her. Her tongue snaked out and grazed her lip as she explored new depths of pleasure with his member firmly planted inside her. She snapped a hand on the headboard and welcomed her spasms of pleasure. For a moment, she forgot his wanting cries. His thin and needy fingers marking her hips. His hot breath rushing over her nipples. It was the intense joy that made her forget her seized calf. Forget her jaw frozen in an awkward and painful position. Forget her arms locked at the elbows. She forgot all this welcomed the most intense orgasm she ever felt on top of the man of her fantasies.

The radiating calm waves of her orgasm did not bring her to reality. Her muscles relaxing did not shake her from her pleasure. The only thing that shook her from her own joy was the cry form the man below her. Hermione cupped his face in her hands. She wrapped her thin feet under his calves and welcomed him back to the world. He shuttered as the aftershock subsided. While she was not experienced before that night, Hermione rode his body with expert ease. She felt foolish for blocking him out. For shutting her eyes while he tried to find contact with hers.

Snape placed her in the crook of his arm and pulled the blanket over their naked bodies. Hermione turned her head to him. "What about-"

"Shh..." He interrupted and place a finger over her lips. He kissed her temple and she followed his instruction. She did not know how she would look at him in the hallways next week. Or if he would return to his usual treatment during class. She pushed these thoughts out of her head and focused on the present. How his strong arms wrapped around her small frame. How his broad chest felt against her back. How his lower body felt sticky and warm against her skin. She made herself remember all these things because she knew she may never have a chance to enjoy them again.

While Snape started to breath slow and deep into her hair, Hermione forced herself to commit every sense to memory. This was one moment she did not want to forget.


End file.
